


It looks ugly

by nohatoclato



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breaking Stuffs, I'm leaving that part to the imagination, Irritability, M/M, Murder Hubbies, They've moved to Greece, Throwing Things, you can make up why they were fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nohatoclato/pseuds/nohatoclato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because when you throw things, and face the inevitability of them hitting the ground, <br/>they<br/>will<br/>break</p>
            </blockquote>





	It looks ugly

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off that tumblr post: "Sexy date ideas by @hannigraham: We’ve been married for ten years, i’m in a silk robe and curlers throwing your most prized possessions off the balcony of our mansion overlooking the sea. You look at me, a shell of a man,and know that I have stolen your money, your youth, and your passion for life."
> 
> lol it took me forever to find the post again, but when I did, I thought it would look cool as a music video scene, or as a one shot lol, it's just too pretty to ignore.

His bolt action rifle makes a sad clattering noise as it lands near Sebastian's feet. He still doesn't turn around, doesn't face the man who's throwing it.

Sebastian is smoking a cigarette on some rocks over looking a thick, green sea. The salty wind whips his hair, and he's starting to get a slight chill, but he  _will not_ go back inside because it's better outside, where there is no pale Irish storm. As if on cue, he feels something heavy slam against his shoulder. Sebastian looks behind him, at the ground first, where there is a blue and white patterned vase lying pitifully on the ground, in many pieces. He looks up at James, who's standing barefoot in a silk robe, and his hair mussed, the owner of a murderous glint in his dark eyes. He's panting, clutching some of Sebastian's clothes in one hand, and stray bullets in the other.

Sebastian turns around to continue smoking the cigarette, and also, to continue ignoring James' tantrum under the hot Grecian sun. He doesn't even turn around when the bullets are released and they hit the ground with little  _pings!_ He enjoys the burn of the smoke down his throat, and the comforting feeling of the nicotine settling into his system. It's, soon, going to be the only thing he will have left; that chemical sensation. Everything else, every other physical thing he owns and values, is being thrown at him by a boy with pale, skinny arms, that Seb longs to bruise, given the chance. He ponders this, as he hears the fluttering of the fabric falling from the balcony, and the splash of the water agains the rocks. 

Sebastian knows James is done with the first part; those were all of Sebastian's possessions. He turns to look at James, hunched over with his murder-filled head in his arms, and pale fingers twitching. His robe is on the floor of the balcony, and even from here, Sebastian can hear his whining, his high-pitched mantra of Sebastian's name. 

All of a sudden, Sebastian can feel it rising like a blimp, this conflation of shame and exhaustion and amusement. He laughs, a triumphant giggle, and James jerks his head up. He looks hollow, Sebastian observes, but not as hollow as Sebastian feels. Sebastian feels like driftwood, as in: something once magical and sturdy, but now riddled with holes, emptied out, and floating on the tide.

That's just one of the trips of being with someone so bad: he makes him holy.

_Fuck him._

He'll need to bathe Jim, and get him into bed, because Jim is obviously too worn out to bother doing it himself. First, though, Sebastian'll need to pick up everything he owns from off the Grecian ground. 

[ **coverart** ](https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/19MCQj2KcL-g_gA7RzpNmbd6U74GN8DVJUfyB25EODU8/pub?w=960&h=720)

 

**Author's Note:**

> heh heh heh.
> 
> I made a pun, and a good one, might I add. I also used a curse and that makes me tingle.
> 
> Song rec: Salvatore//Lana Del Rey + Cherry Wine//Hozier (where I got the title from)


End file.
